


Pampered

by fem_castielnovak



Series: Odds & Ends [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Body Worship, Intimacy, M/M, but it's two sentences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:04:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fem_castielnovak/pseuds/fem_castielnovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bathing together and talking about deep thoughts with emotional sappiness</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pampered

**Author's Note:**

> There is a prefacing chapter to this I just couldn't focus on writing it  
> Maybe one day I'll finish and publish it but until then this can stand alone

 

 

The water is warm and wonderful and Dean quite frankly never wants to leave. His back is pressed to Castiel's chest and the water laps gently at his skin where it isn't covered by Castiel's own. Every breath is steam filled and Dean feels absolutely saturated. 

They’ve carefully washed each other, Cas’s lovely array of herb-based soaps being used to extreme extents. Dean has fully marveled at all of the ink that covers Cas’s skin. The rosy orange glow of the candlelight offset the tattoos beautifully. It did not, however, provide for attention to detail. He’s nowhere close to satisfied with this limited exploration he’s been afforded and plans to further investigate the drawings in the near future.

Cas’s hands drift over the parts of Dean’s body he can reach, searching for leftover and errant bubbles. Little noises of quiet contentment escape both of them alternatingly. Cas’s search tapers off as he loses himself in the glide of skin along skin. The vee of Dean’s hipbones provides an easy path for his hands to take in their careless wandering.

“Don’t tell me we’re going for round two,” Dean says without an ounce of disappointment in his tone. He rolls his hips upward to further contradict himself.

“As I said; I find you incredibly erotic when you’re soaking wet.”

 

Dean comes clutching tightly to the edges of the tub, his back arched taut and his mouth a perfect oval.  
Cas follows shortly after, biting into the juncture of Dean’s neck.

 

They lie panting, wrapped in one another. Cas shifts but Dean doesn’t mind enough to do more than move along with him. The sound of the drain is what startles him awake and he jerks forward. He stares accusingly at the open metal ring in the bottom of the tub.

“What’d you do that for?” he asks Cas.

“The tub is full and we need running water if we want any foam.”

Sleep-addled as he is, the words don’t make sense to Dean. But they don’t not make sense either. So he closes his eyes and curls up towards Cas’s warmth as more of the water drains away and leaves his body victim to evaporation.

 

Dean’s shivers slowly begin to subside and he realizes that it’s because of the warm water rising around him. A lovely, fresh scent pervades the air and Dean notes that the water tickles oddly. Cas shifts only one more time and with it, the tap is cut off.

Dean’s eyes blink open and he’s met with a frothy wall.  
_Oh_ , ‘ _foam_ , _’_ now he gets it, _A bubble bath_.  
The tickling sensation makes more sense too.

Dean stretches and drapes his arms over the thighs that bracket him.

A sigh escapes them both simultaneously.

Castiel’s hand, spread wide and flat, runs down his chest and lands over the small pudge of Dean’s stomach. He has to really resist the urge to suck his tummy in and he must be more obvious about it than he thinks because Cas presses a kiss behind his ear and whispers, “You’re forgetting to breathe.”

In response, Dean turns his face into Cas’s neck and just snuffles quietly. Cas runs his hand lengthwise across Dean’s stomach and it sends goosebumps racing up his abdomen.

“’Dunno why you insisted on bubbles.” Dean scoops a handful and blows it away with one good puff.

“Because bubbles are nice,” he kisses Dean’s temple, “and you like bubbles.”

Dean makes a disgruntled noise but keeps his eyes closed and his head tucked into Castiel’s neck.

“Besides, these are good for you. It’s an all-natural soap, it’s exfoliating, and it’s supposed to contain vitamins and minerals in addition to the visible beneficial herbs.”

“Did you make it yourself?” Dean strokes gently back and forth where his hand rests along Cas’s thigh.

Cas is silent for a beat, “No, but now I’d like to try.”

Dean huffs a sleepy sigh, “Later.”

Cas gives a soft laugh, “Well it’s not exactly as though I could get up at the moment.”

“No, you have a lapful of me and the tub is too warm.”

Cas laughs again and Dean feels like he’s glowing with the pride of being able to make Cas do that so easily.

“You know me so well; –“

“Damn straight.”

“–those are my precise reasons.”

“And what good reasons they are.” Dean lifts a hand to flick more bubbles before gracelessly dropping it back under the surface.

Cas presses a kiss to his temple and rests his head atop Dean’s. Dean laces his fingers with Cas’s where they still rest over his stomach. Cas curls his hand into a fist to squeeze their fingers together then relaxes and spreads them once more.

“I have made candles before.”  
Dean tilts his head to look up at him.  
“Not these,” Cas gestures with his free hand and sends water droplets flicking through the air. “I went to a workshop for it. Or maybe it was a renaissance faire …” he spaces out for a moment. “I couldn’t say. Either way I brought home a basket full of fat, blue, jasmine scented, wax sticks.” The contempt in his voice is amusing to Dean but whether it’s for some memory associated with the making of the candles or with the candles themselves, Dean couldn’t say. “It might have been the same day, or even months later, but whenever it was that I ended up using them, I was incredibly high. I took them all out, determined to maximize their benefits or rid myself of them all at once – I’m not sure. I didn’t even bother putting them in a particular shape around me, just set them all out on every flat surface, and lit them all up. I sat there in the middle of the room and I couldn’t even bring myself to close my eyes. I just stared at the candles within my line of sight … I watched them all melt and I thought it was so beautiful and poetic. Here I was, their creator, who had spent tedious amounts of time creating them, earning myself an awful crick in my neck – and I got to watch their demise and ultimate end. When they were all gone and even the ones I hadn’t been watching had burnt out, I sat there in the darkness contemplating the brevity of the physical ….”  
They let the thought sit there. Dean grasps it and tucks it away to think about with more focus later, when he isn’t so content.

“As I said, I was incredibly high.”

Dean hums in reply and re-summons the silence.

Eventually, Cas reaches over the side of the tub for something. He has to lean too far for Dean’s liking because it dislodges him from what had been the perfect position. Cas’s short nails click against the tile and his fingers rasp along the grout. Dean watches his hand rise back into view, bearing a cigarette which is fluidly stretched outward to hover within a nearby candle’s flame.

Cas settles back into the water, a little lower this time, bringing his arm to rest on the tub’s edge.

Dean turns onto his side which puts more space between them but it’s easier to kiss and see Cas’s face, and their legs are now tangled together quite nicely.

Cas gives a close-lipped smile before bringing the cigarette up to his own lips and leaning down to present a taste to Dean.

They trade smoky kisses for what feels like aeons.

Dean’s sure he nods off more than once but every time he comes back to himself, Cas is taking a drag and the cigarette looks to be the same length as the last time. The water and steam, the dim lighting and the earthy smell – Dean feels like he’s wrapped up in a rainforest. Whatever scent the bubble bath is, it blends exquisitely with the weed. Dean can’t tell if it’s supposed to be flowers or fruit or anything past the general “nature” quality of the smell. He takes a deeper breath. Maybe it’s dirt-scented. They have that now.  
Dean had scoffed wen he'd discovered that the scent was something which was mass produced. But close inspection proved it to be surprisingly pleasant with a tolerable, or perhaps more fairly, a comforting scent - wet and rich. Like before a rainstorm. The same smell that made Dean think of the soil reaching up to meet the water about to spill from the sky. As if the earth could pull down the rain from the heavens.

Dean watches Cas suck down the last of the joint and lean his head back to blow the smoke into the air in one long breath. He looks utterly blissed out with his neck hooked on the round end of the tub and his arm dangling over the side.

Cas has this ethereal quality that makes it feel like he knows so much more than he probably does. It at least dwarfs what Dean thinks that he himself knows.

There is wisdom in his eyes.   
They are the blue of age-old galaxies.

“Your eyes make me think of stars,” he hears himself say. Before he can manage a blush, Cas smiles, oozing affection.

“Yours make me think of forests,” he whispers like it’s a secret. “Boundless forests where I lose myself because they never end.” His eyes run over the rest of Dean’s features and he traces Dean’s cheekbone with the tip of his finger, “Your freckles are like constellations waiting to be connected, new and unseen before by any astronomer.” Dean swallows and Cas’s hand slides down his throat and across his clavicle, “Your torso is like a canvas. I'd like to paint it someday. See what I could come up with just because it was you I was painting on. Maybe I could make new constellations with the freckles on your back. Is there a word for when you make art from other art? That’s what you are, Dean – _art_. Mediums of muscle, chemical, bone – forming the external and internal canvases. The physical and the mental.” Cas pushes the wet hair back from Dean’s forehead almost like he’s trying to touch Dean’s brain, “You have a beautiful mind. It sees things _just_ so.”

 _It can see me in ways I had never imagined being seen_ , Cas thinks.

The sex is over and Dean feels completely exposed with this sort of attention. More so when it isn’t purposed as foreplay.

He manages to meet the other man’s gaze, “’M gonna be honest, Cas. I don’t know what to do with –   w-what to say –“

“Nothing. Do nothing, don’t say anything.” Cas gives him a kiss to prevent him from responding, “Just accept it for what it is.”

Dean turns so that they’re pressed once more back-to-chest and he’s cradled between Cas’s thighs. Cas tightens the arm he’s got around Dean’s waist and Dean settles both of his own over it. Cas’s other hand strokes through Dean’s hair.

And they stay posed just like that until the water cools.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Exits are to your left, your right, and your rear, restrooms are to the front, Kudos and comments are found below, and as always very appreciated. Thank you for flying Air fem-castielnovak.


End file.
